Fire and Feast
by FiveRivers
Summary: Ember has never seen Skulker's face. A Christmas truce fic for Sillyotterarts.


.

.

.

Fire and Feast

.

Ember had never seen Skulker without his armor. She had never seen his face beneath that helmet. She had no idea what he really looked like.

Now, to a human that might have sounded strange. Probably. This was the era of online dating. But Ember and Skulker knew each other, had met in person. They had been to each others' homes. They had fought together, they had haunted together. Ember had written songs for Skulker. Skulker had cooked for Ember. Neither Skulker or Ember were really 'traditional morals' types either.

But they were ghosts. They weren't really into that kind of... physical thing. Ember didn't really care about never seeing Skulker's face, either. What might have been problematic for a human couple was a nonissue for Ember.

The issue Ember had with the armor was that it wasn't cuddly. At all.

Ember had come to two conclusions about why Skulker hid his face. One was that he was horribly disfigured, the other was that he looked a lot older than her. Ember thought both of these were silly reasons. The last time that Ember had dated a pretty boy, she had been burned (literally), and Ember knew that Skulker was Neverborn, with Ember right on the divide between adult and child ghost. Sure, she'd be on that divide forever, but there wasn't a law against it, or even a well-defined social taboo.

It was getting close to Christmas, the best cuddling time of the year. Ember wanted that cuddle. And, okay, maybe she was just a _little_ curious.

She was going to get Skulker to take off his armor. Somehow. She had already tried all the non-seasonal stratagems she could think of. Good thing the holidays had some big guns.

For example, mistletoe.

"I put up some mistletoe earlier," said Ember, when Skulker sat down next to her on the couch. They were in her lair, backstage, the whole space hung with deep blue curtains and sparkling lights.

"Did you?" asked Skulker, looking up, hand frozen halfway to the TV remote. The mistletoe wasn't there. Of course it wasn't. That wouldn't be any fun, for Skulker or Ember.

"Mhmhm," hummed Ember. "I've forgotten just where, though. Wanna help me find it?"

The false jawbone of Skulker's armor twisted into a wicked grin, and the fiery mohawk that licked the metal skull grew brighter. "Are you challenging me to a hunt?"

"Maybe," said Ember, teasingly. "I wonder if you could catch me, too, while you're at it." She leaned forward as she said this, but before Skulker could catch her, dissolved into blue flames, teleporting several feet away. "Come on!"

Ember's lair wasn't huge, but it was decently sized, with lots of nooks and crannies and other hiding places. This was going to be a fun game. It fed into both their Obsessions. Ember's, to be wanted. Skulker's, to pursue, to be challenged.

After she'd had her fill of that, Ember led Skulker to where she had hidden the mistletoe. Ember thought that it was a nice, romantic little alcove, and the spotlight it housed made it very difficult to see the plant hanging from its ceiling.

With a casual thought, Ember turned off the light, bathing herself and Skulker in a romantic dimness. "Looks like you caught me," she said, "and the mistletoe, too." She smiled just enough to show her fangs. She knew he liked that. "Aren't you going to take your prize?"

Skulker smiled back... and then kissed her with his cold metal lips. Well. Ember had expected that, actually. She kissed him back, despite the hard edges and sharp corners. Then she pulled away, just a little bit.

"I want to kiss you," she said. "I want you to kiss me."

"I am kissing you," said Skulker.

"No," said Ember. "You. You, you. The real you, under all this." Ember felt Skulker freeze. She looked up at him, concerned, to find Skulker gazing down at her with a completely blank face. "Skulker?"

"This is the real me," he said, his voice entirely mechanical. He pulled back, out of the alcove. "I should go."

"Skulker, wait!" Ember briefly considered warping her lair so that he couldn't get to the door, but decided that would be a bad move. "I just-"

Skulker reached the door and slammed it behind him. Ember flew out after him, but it was too late. He was nowhere in sight.

Ember put the nail of her thumb in her mouth and bit it, a bad habit from when she was human. "I just wanted to cuddle..."

.

.

.

"So," said Phantom, avoiding Skulker's rocket machete by a hair, his spectral voice under laid with tones of humor and disbelief, "Ember asked to take off your armor and you _ran away?_ "

Skulker fired a volley of missiles. "I didn't run away!"

"So you went back?" asked Phantom, avoiding the missiles with the thoughtless, unconscious grace that made him such a valuable, such a _priceless_ , prize, such an engaging hunt.

"No."

"Right," drawled Phantom, firing back a few lazy shots of his own. Skulker knew what the whelp was doing, drawing him into a sense of complacency, setting him up for a fall. He wasn't going to fall for it. But Phantom was still speaking. "How long ago was this anyway? Seriously, how long are you going to leave this for?"

"It was only a few hours ago!" protested Skulker. He wasn't quite able to dodge Phantom's next barrage of ghost rays.

"Only a few-? You mean, you ran out on Ember and came here right after? Dude, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not the right guy to come to for relationship advice."

Skulker froze. "Relationship advice. You- Whelp, you help Johnny and Kitty when they fight."

Phantom had paused, too, one fist raised and glowing. "Uh, sure. Yeah. I wouldn't put that in the present tense," he said.

"You manage that black-haired witch," mused Skulker. "That can't be easy. She's nothing like my sweet Ember."

"Wow. Don't say that in front of Sam. You'll need to figure out how to pilot that armor with all your limbs in casts."

"I don't have bones."

"Sam will find a way. Trust me," said Phantom, clearly going for a dark tone, but mixing in too much fondness.

"Tell me how I can fix this, whelp, or I'll take your pelt!" The threat was without value. Skulker was already trying to catch Phantom, and both ghosts knew that Skulker would never strike the finishing blow. The thrill of the hunt was too great.

Also, technically speaking, Phantom had saved Skulker's existence on multiple occasions. Not that either of them were ever going to acknowledge that. It was just too weird.

"Fix it how?" asked Phantom.

"That's what I'm asking you!" said Skulker, swiping at Phantom.

"No, I mean, like, what do you want, here?"

"I want things to go back to normal. The way they were before she got this ridiculous notion in her head!"

"Again, wow. Even I know that there's no chance of that happening. She _knows_ you're hiding something now. Well, she knew before, too, but now she knows that it's serious. Maybe if you said it's your identity or something? Like, explained, I mean? I don't know if that's a thing in the Ghost Zone..." Phantom trailed off, looking uncertain.

"I can't do that! I'd have to... explain. About the way I look!"

Phantom made a face. "Dude, way too loud. She already knows there's something up with the way you look. Everyone knows. Otherwise, you wouldn't hide behind that armor all the time."

"Hide?" repeated Skulker, incredulously. "I am Skulker!" he roared. "The Ghost Zone's greatest hunter!"

The hunt was back on.

Then, just as abruptly, it was over.

"Dude," Phantom's voice was oddly muted from the outside of the thermos. "Look, at the very least, you have to apologize for running off. For the rest, well, she's stuck with you for this long, right? She probably thinks that you're horribly disfigured or something. You just-" Phantom's voice became more uncertain. "You just have to ask yourself, is she the kind of person who would leave you over this? If she is, do you really want to stay with her?"

.

.

.

Skulker did not _slink_ back to his island. He would never do something so lowly, so representative of defeat. Still, he wasn't feeling good about himself when he got home. Actually, he was feeling pretty miserable. He even made his suit slouch down in his armchair, and run its hands up and down the arms.

Phantom was right. Ember was going to leave him.

It wasn't that he thought that she was a bad person. No, she was the best. It was just... She was well-defined. Powerful in truth. Beautiful. Whereas Skulker was little more than a blob. His body was weak and ugly. He had only been able to become the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter by guile and cunning. There was no way that she would want him. Not as a partner. Not as an equal. If he was lucky, they might stay friends.

... Was that music? _Christmas_ music? Who was playing Christmas music on his island when he was feeling so miserable? _Who dared?_

Then she started singing.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas~"

Oh, Ancients, it was Ember.

"There is just one thing I need."

What should he do?

"I don't care about the presents~"

He owed her the truth. He couldn't leave her hanging like this. None of this was her fault. He floated out slowly, off shore of his island, to where Ember was serenading him. Her guitar was making it snow around her, and the atmospheric ectoplasm was twinkling. Skulker had never seen her more beautiful.

"~ All I want for Christmas, is you~ baby. All I want for Christmas... is you," finished Ember. She fell silent, letting the last chord fade away into nothing. The only sounds left were natural. The rustle of the jungle behind him, the animals within it, the wind, the faint background hum of ectoplasm.

Skulker looked down.

"I didn't mean to corner you, baby," said Ember. Skulker flinched internally, careful not to nudge his controls. "I just, it's like, we're right in front of each other, but we're still separated. I want to be able to touch you."

"It's not that- It's complicated," said Skulker.

"I know, baby. Everything worth doing is. Like I- I didn't look like this when I was alive, right? I know that you probably don't like the way you look, but I want to help. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide." She shifted slightly in the air. "I'm not saying that you have to show me, though, just, like, I don't want to break up over this, okay?"

Skulker finally looked back up. "I'm not breaking up if you aren't."

"Hah! There we go."

"Where did you come up with the song idea, anyway?"

Ember moved closer. "Well, I can't take credit for that, exactly. Romantically speaking, holiday traditions just have some really big guns. Like yours." She paused. "Wanna go mess with the dipstick before the truce takes effect?"

Skulker smiled. "Always."

.

.

.

Skulker was sitting under a massive, highly decorated Christmas tree, staring at a large red bow. Red dye was often difficult to come by in this part of the Zone, but Skulker had nabbed it from the human world, where they were a dime a dozen. He was hoping that it wouldn't attract Walker. He had invited Ember over for a gift exchange, and everything had to be perfect.

After a moment of trepidation, he stuck the bow on his forehead. Then he did one more nervous check of his set up. The tree. The lights. The candles. The bonfire. The feast. He had a hundred delicacies laid out on the white-clothed table, each one procured by him, personally, for this very event.

Then he went back under the tree to wait. He hadn't been a moment too soon, because a blue ball of flame appeared in the air, expanded, and then flickered to reveal Ember.

She smiled at the preparations, but her eyes went wide when she saw Skulker. "Really?" she asked, one hand almost touching her lips. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, nodding. No backing out now.

"Where should you start."

"Here," he said, pointing at his 'head.' It was the only piece that had anything behind it, after all. He undid a clasp to make easier for her to take it off.

She flew up to float directly in front of him, and, with some hesitation, she cupped his head in her hands. "Last chance."

"Do it," said Skulker.

She pulled off the head.

Silence. Then, Ember rotated the helmet so that she could peer inside.

"Hi, sweetie?" said Skulker.

More silence.

Then, "Oh," said Ember, blinking. "I didn't expect this. Um. This is okay, right? Yeah! Okay. I can be the big spoon! Can I touch you?"

Skulker floated out of the helmet. "Alright," said Skulker.

.

.

.

They rested under the tree, satiated, watching the islands go by, and the staircases of the knot drift in the distance. Skulker sat on Ember's shoulder, warmed by both her hair and the remnants of their yule bonfire.

"Merry Christmas," said Ember.

"Merry Christmas," said Skulker.


End file.
